


Once Upon A Time

by damnedapostate (ethydium)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Humor, M/M, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 16:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13057440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethydium/pseuds/damnedapostate
Summary: Fenris and Anders are on the run, and Fenris goes into a tavern to listen to gossips.





	Once Upon A Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stealyourshiny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stealyourshiny/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Tests of the Maker](https://archiveofourown.org/works/252839) by [stealyourshiny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stealyourshiny/pseuds/stealyourshiny). 



> So I dreamt one morning that someone prompted @stealyourshiny in the Trials of the Maker universe. And it was so vivid, I loved the prompt so much, I had to write it. So, congratulations, I prompted myself.
> 
> Well, the prompt was “someone describing being balls deep in Anders to Fenris, oblivious to their relationship; Fenris being all flustered and etc.”

Fenris sat in the tavern. He was with Anders, originally, but he left the mage at the market square. He was here to gather information, see if anyone was talking about the Grey Wardens or mentioned the infamous apostate.

Suddenly, he heard Anders’ name being mentioned at the table next to his. He slightly turned his head, hiding his face in his tankard, and listened.

“Of course,” a man exclaimed. “I’m telling the truth here, lads. I was in Kirkwall, as sure as I’m sitting here, I knew that mage!” He was clearly drunk. Not just any drunk, Fenris concluded, he was totally  _ trashed _ . Speaking loudly, not minding that his audience was slipping away.

It seemed either they had heard the story many times, or they gave him little to no credit.

Fenris brought a large mug of ale and put it down in front of the man.

“Tell me more about your mage friend in Kirkwall, my friend,” he told the man.

“All right, lad,” he chugged down half of his ale, and swiped at his mouth.

Fenris looked at him,  _ really _ looked at him. He suspected the man to be a sailor or at least someone who worked at the docks. He was heavily built and large. A mountain of a man compared to Fenris. 

His dark hair was going white at the temples, and he had a straight nose. Curious thing on someone’s face who frequented taverns.

“I got out before the whole town blew up,” he amended. “But I carry the memory of that rebellious mage in my heart ‘til the day I die,” he said then guffawed.

“Many claim to have known him,” Fenris stated coldly. “And they soon turn out to be liars.”

“I swear, I knew him! There’s no mistaking him, I can recite the whole map of his body. I know how many freckles are there to find.”

Fenris tensed up. He was not anticipating the rest of the conversation, but it came – whether he wanted or not.

“He was so willing, and pliant under me, my friend.” Fenris felt the blush creeping up on his neck. Fast. “But not passive, oh no….no,” he laughed again, shortly but louder than last time. “Urged me and… and,” he was searching for the best expression with shining eyes, but his drunken mind was slow to respond. “ _ commanded _ me! What a loud, filthy mouth that one has!”

Oh, yes, Fenris knew about that all too well.

“He whined so loudly until I was balls deep in him, and that only shut him up for a minute or so.”

Fenris was lost in thought for a while but this… this captured his attention very well. He felt his face burning, his ears twitching in anticipation. Oh, Maker, this was a bad idea.

“What happened then?” He asked, and cursed himself for his weakness. 

He was both eager to find out everything this man could tell him and simultaneously wanted to  _ shut him up _ once and for all. How dare he have the audacity to share something so private, so precious in such a lewd manner?

“Well, it just got him babbling again,” he huffed in fake annoyance. “Begging and demanding to be fucked hard.” He chuckled softly. “Oh, what a needy little thing he was.” He eyed the table with a large smile on his face, then he looked up, straight into Fenris’ eyes. “His greedy little hole swallowed me all up! Nothing was enough for him.”

Fenris felt a nosebleed coming. This was not happening to him, he was just out gathering tiny little bits of information, not this!

_ Dear Maker, _

_ Just… don’t let Anders find me here and now. _

_ Fenris _

“Clenched me so hard, I was seeing stars. He was so tight, so very impatient. Had to spank him just to have a little time to breathe. Oh, his glorious ass, Maker. He was a handful.”

Fenris breathed evenly and unclenched his fists resting on his knees under the table. Why did he have to ask?

“Oh, and did I tell you he was flexible? I pushed his knees back, over his shoulders. Such a glorious sight with all those freckles and blond hair, I’m telling you. He bent without complaint, just begged to be fucked  _ harder _ and  _ faster _ .”

He laughed again, a thundering sound, and suddenly Fenris had the urge to punch him. Hard. With lyrium casting a deadly halo over his fists. 

“It seemed it was the only two words he knew how to form, he was so far gone. He never ever said  _ please _ ! Can you believe it?” He rested his elbows on the ale-soaked table, and shook his head slowly. He was swaying dangerously with the move, threatening to fall down to the dirty floor. “There I was, fucking the life out of his greedy, tight, delicious hole” With each epithet, he was growing bolder and bolder, panting heavily now, “with all my vigour, and he never even said please!” His roaring laughter filled the air, and Fenris’ mind screamed bloody murder.

Well, of course, his mind was screaming that  _ secondly _ . First and foremost it supplied vivid images of Anders. Babbling and blushing, angling himself for better reach as he was fucked in a no doubt shady back room somewhere in the docks.

Just the thought that Fenris was there at the time in Kirkwall… that he could… the train of thoughts stopped suddenly, as the sailor continued talking.

“He came all over himself, didn’t even need another touch apart from my cock and my hands squeezing his butt and tights.”

Fenris brain short circuited at that. Everything went away for a short moment, his mind only supplying the images of Anders flushed, covered in his own semen while still rocking back and forth rapidly on the sailor’s penis. 

“But that still didn’t shut him up,” snickered the man. “He was too far gone to be coherent, but whined and whined to be filled up.” The sailor raised his tankard to drink, but he missed his mouth and poured ale all over himself.

Fenris quickly rose from the table, and fled to the back quickly, not risking to hear the rest of the story.

The sailor didn’t take notice. He was too busy begging the owner for more ale.

“Please, I have to wet my lips! I have a story to tell!”

“Shut up, you old drunkard,” the owner shouted at him. “Everyone knows you never made it to Kirkwall! You passed out in the port in Ostwich, so nobody was willing to take you on any boat!”

*

Fenris left the tavern after a short break in an abandoned storage room. He wanted to disappear, to cool his shame a little, but of course, he didn’t get the chance. Anders was on the other side of the street and saw him immediately.

Fenris tried to school his features, but Anders easily saw through him.

“Are you drunk?” He asked suspiciously, then smiled widely. “Maker, Fenris, you are  _ drunk _ . It’s not even eleven.” He laughed softly, so Fenris grumbled and strode away.

“We need to leave, people know you here, Nalls.” 


End file.
